


Not Just For Children

by rubycrowned



Category: 1D - Fandom, One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubycrowned/pseuds/rubycrowned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn has trouble sleeping when no-one else is around these days</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just For Children

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick oneshot before I get stuck into the ziam ficathon. Inspired by this gif (http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/ruby_crowned/45398875/433/original.gif) :))

Zayn doesn’t like sleeping alone.

Can’t, very nearly.

***

He never used to be that way.

Zayn  _used_  to revel in being able to spread eagle in the comfort of a double bed, being able to roll over on a hot night and find that amazing cool spot on the other side of the bed. Sleeping alone meant hogging all the blankets and no-one bitching about it, not having to fall asleep to a chorus of snores, or awaking to the rustling of movement caused by an insufferable twat who for some godforsaken reason is a ‘morning-person’.

But then, X-Factor happened.

Four boys happened.

Sleepovers and cramped living quarters happened. And an actual desire to be close to each other. To know that his band mates, friends,  _brothers_  were nearby became a comfort.

Sleeping by himself became a rarity; occasionally a welcome novelty, but often it was a relief to find a sleepy boy climbing into bed with him, or even just in the bed opposite; the bunk above him creaking lightly with a shifting weight.

***

When Zayn had to leave the X-Factor house to go home for his grandfather’s funeral, it’s the first time he notices just how strange it is to sleep alone in a room. It was already difficult, dealing with the grief and loss, knowing his grandfather wouldn’t be around to see whatever it was he thought him and the lads might be about to achieve. He found himself in with his younger sisters more than once; the excuse of comforting them ready at his lips, but more concerned with finally being able to relax into the mattress and fall into slumber.

It wasn’t enough to stop him from lying in the dark though, his phone held tightly in one hand, thumb hovering over the call button, unsure whether to hit it and hear the voice which brought true comfort.

***

Then Liam happened.

It wasn’t loud and overt and obnoxiously, sickeningly cute like Louis and Harry, the closest thing to love at first sight Zayn had ever seen.

It was quiet and understated, hushed conversations and stares which Zayn didn’t even realise he was sending until suddenly, incredibly, Liam was returning them, stopping them by making Zayn’s eyelids flutter closed as Liam’s lips met his.

It was feelings Zayn didn’t begin to know how to describe yet and it was home and it was another reason upon all the rest which left him tossing and turning in the too-much space of an empty bed, so used to the familiar, reassuring warmth of Liam behind him, around him, arm thrown over his waist, securing him.

***

It starts to become, not a problem exactly, but an inconvenience, and more than a little embarrassing. Zayn knows Liam doesn’t mind, that he misses him just as much when they’re home but apart, visiting family or off with mates or whatever, but he still feels silly when he has to call Liam up; sometimes it’s at 2 or 3 in the morning, when Zayn finally gets fed up with willing his muscles to unwind and glancing at the blinking light of his alarm clock.

Sometimes it’s Skype, but more often than not it’s just on his phone; it’s not so much having to physically see Liam, it’s just knowing he’s there, whether that’s his face or his voice or hearing his even breaths when he falls asleep before Zayn does.

***

When Zayn gets the call to say he needs to get on a plane and fly home immediately – and why does death always seem to strike when everything is finally  _good_ , as if to say no, you are only allowed to be so happy, no more, and so here let us hurt you and your own, take away someone you love – the other boys surround him with touches and words and it’s all sort of well-meaning but irrelevant and then  _Liam’s not there_  and Zayn  _needs_ him right now.

But Liam returns when the other boys have all but left and Zayn is standing in their hotel room looking about him, lost, knowing he needs to move and throw clothes into a bag so he can get out of here, get to the airport and get home to his family, but unsure just how to do that.

Liam returns with an arm around his waist and a soft kiss to the nape of his neck and a gentle “Here; for when I’m not around at night.”

And pressed into his hands is a large-ish teddy bear, beige-brown and soft as anything Zayn can think of. He doesn’t really know what to make of it, because yes he has some issues with sleeping alone but he’s not a  _child_  for crying out loud. But when he lifts it to his face to press the fur against his skin (it really is that silky-soft and he can’t quite resist), he turns to Liam with tears in his eyes, which up ‘til now he hadn’t been able to find.

“It smells like you.”

Liam smiles, and it’s calm and reassuring and Zayn clings to it because it’s all he has at the moment and he knows that even that will be taken from him soon, as soon as he leaves the hotel and catches that plane.

“Patch here has been living in my jersey for the last couple weeks or so, hiding out in Niall’s room, just in case of emergency.”

And the fact that Liam had  _planned_ this, on the off chance that Zayn might need something there when no-one was around, even though they were on tour and the chances of that happening were next to nothing brought on a swell of feelings he couldn’t quite deal with at that very second, so he leapt on the obvious follow up.

“Really? Patch? That’s his name?”

“Look! He has a wee patch here on his belly, see? I thought it fitted…”

“What an original name, Li,” Zayn smirked into Liam’s shoulder, some of the weight lifting off his shoulders, enough for him to take a deep breath and think  _I can do this._

“Well…sorry, you can always change it if-”

“It’s good, Liam. It’s good. Patch it is.”

***

Zayn got back just shy of a week later, to excited hugs from his friends and a teary one from Liam; it wasn’t just Zayn who missed his boyfriend when they were apart, and this one hadn’t been a planned absence they could get used to the idea of.

He’d been left alone for a short time, allowed to dump his bags and get changed out of his wrinkled clothes from the long flight, but when Zayn hadn’t joined them in Harry and Lou’s room almost an hour later, Liam went looking for him.

The sight that greeted him when Liam let himself into his room – their room, now that Zayn was back – brought a grin to his face and a warm sensation spreading through his chest.

Zayn’s clothes were scattered about the room already, really like he’d never left, but the boy himself was crawled up onto the bed; he’d managed to change into a clean top, but he hadn’t even managed to kick his shoes off before he’d fallen asleep.

They’d still been in contact daily while Zayn was away, time differences be damned, but for once it was purely to keep in touch, to say hello, keep up to date with what had been going on that day, what city the boys were in now; simple things. Only once had Liam had to hang up on a sleeping Zayn, but it hadn’t been intentional at all.

So yes, Liam couldn’t help but smile when he saw that, in the middle of the bed with Zayn, was Patch; Zayn wasn’t holding him, but it looked like he had been until he had drifted off, hand twitching lightly in sleep close to the bear lying on its side; probably fallen over when Zayn’s unconscious grip had slackened.

He wasn’t particularly tired himself, it was only early evening, but quiet time had been rare as of late, quiet time with Zayn obviously even less so. So Liam grabbed the duvet off the spare bed and climbed carefully onto the bed next to Zayn, gently covering them both with the bedcover.

He pressed a light kiss to Zayn’s temple, trying not to disturb him, then snuggled into the warmth of the bed, falling into the most restful sleep he’d had in close to a week.

It wasn’t only Zayn who hated sleeping alone these days.

***


End file.
